On my first day in Paris, I was dying for a nap after not sleeping on my overnight flight but 'how…read moreto beat jet lag' tutorials advocate staying awake until local bedtime. I knew I wouldn't be able to make it until my usual bedtime of midnight-ish (that's a liberal ish), but 9pm seemed reasonable. It was a chilly fall night and a pint of Guinness or two sounded like the ideal nightcap, err, sleep inducer. A quick search on my Yelp app and a brisk 10-minute walk later, I arrived at The Quiet Man.
Like most bars in Paris, the Quiet Man is tiny... especially tiny, even. However, the diminutive size was far less intimidating than walking into a bar filled with loud, jovial men and only one stool to be snagged. I never took my eyes off it while waiting for my perfectly-poured Guinness and stealthily made my way over before pouncing: all mine!
Over the next 2 hours, I 'met' the guys next to me several times (close proximity is a powerful instigator of friendship), pretended like I understood everyone's Fast french while nodding and smiling, was gifted a Guinness from one of my elbow-mates, and embarked on a deep and lengthy political conversation in English with a 60-ish Frenchman who had previously lived in London and Dublin (sidenote: this convo took place right before the U.S. presidential election and everyone and their far-removed cousin expressed interest in hearing my opinion).
A couple of Guinness later, I was sufficiently spent. And this cool unassuming dive, like its friendly patrons, won't be soon forgotten.
PS: There's nothing quiet about the Quiet Man ;)
